Mad World
by AmyGreenhouse
Summary: Newkirk is not having a very good time: the winter seems to last forever, and all sorts of things go wrong. This is my first HH story - please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Mad World

A Hogan's Heroes story by Amy Greenhouse

Disclaimer: I wish I owned the Heroes, the Stalag or the entire world, but I am only a poor artist

Summary: Things aren't going well for Corporal Newkirk.

Peter Newkirk walked was feeling restless. He walked around the compound, chain-smoking and keeping to himself – he was in too dark a mood for small talk.

He hadn't felt like this for a long time, and he was wondering how much more he could take. He had been a POW for a longer time than the others, and while their missions made life more interesting and bearable, he just felt tired and worn out all the time these days.

He shivered. This winter seemed to last forever, as well, and the cold and snow were taking their toll: of course they managed to get their hands on better food than other POWs, but supplies were increasingly difficult to get. By now, even Klink was living on thin broth and stale bread.

He sighed and lit another cigarette. At least, he had something to do now. When he had been captured, he had been hell-bent on escaping. There was nothing he wouldn't try: he had started more tunnels than he cared to remember and had probably survived more cave-ins than anybody else in this camp.

He had lied, stolen and scammed his way out of camps – only to be captured again and returned to his camp. He had been transferred from one camp to another, never caring where he ended up, because all he could think of was his next escape attempt.

Things had changed somewhat when he had met LeBeau: the Frenchman hadn't cared about his bad reputation, and, against all odds, they had become friends.

Of course, everything had changed when Colonel Hogan arrived – and Newkirk was glad that the American Colonel had believed in him and had convinced him to change his ways.

Now, however, the old restlessness was back – and there was nothing he could do to fight it.

It was March now, and he hadn't heard from his sister Mavis for months now. She had always kept him up to date, her letters arriving evey six weeks or so. Ever since she had been informed that her brother had been captured she had written to him.

Her last letter had arrived in October, and while he had written to her every week like he always did, there had been no reply. No letter for his birthday, none for Christmas or the new year, nothing.

The others had noticed, of course, and everybody had told him that there had to be some sort of delay, that the letters would arrive sooner or later, that he shouldn't worry. Even the Colonel had told him not to worry, and reminded him that things were probably very difficult in London right now. Despite all this, fellow Londoners had told him that they were still receiving letters from their friends and families.

He had smiled and made light of the situation for as long as he could, but now he just avoided mail call. Maybe Mavis had left London, or maybe she was dead. He sighed again and returned to his barracks – it was getting too cold to stay outside. Those German winters were really uncomfortably cold, and he wanted to enjoy the relative warmth until it was time for tonight's mission.

The Germans had insisted on building yet another bridge, and it was up to them to blow it to pieces. Carter had built the bombs, and they were going to go out to place them tonight. A routine mission, really, but nothing was ever routine when Carter was involved.

Newkirk smiled as he sat down at the table and gladly accepted a cup of hot, coffee-flavoured water which he sipped while Colonel Hogan went over their mission again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Newkirk sighed, desperately trying to keep warm while he was waiting for Carter to place the bombs. He was supposed to make sure that they did not get caught, but not even the Germans went out in this bloody cold.

Finally, Carter returned, grinning like a lunatic.

'You ready, then?' Newkirk asked irritably, not in the mood to tolerate Carter's crazy side.

'Yes. The bridge is going to...' Carter beamed, starting to make explosion sounds.

Newkirk grimaced and pulled his friend along towards the Stalag. Suddenly, an explosion shook the earth with a deafening sound. Debris flew through the air and the shockwave knocked them off their feet. Newkirk felt himself being thrown to the floor, hitting his head on something as he fell. For a second, he wondered why everything was at such a weird angle all of a sudden, and why he was on the floor.

Then, his vision turned to grey and he passed out.

He woke up shivering and disoriented. It was snowing now, and he briefly wondered what had happened. His head hurt, but he knew that they had to get back to the camp before the Germans arrived. He got to his feet and brushed himself off, looking around for his friend. Carter was face down in the snow a few metres to his right, trying to get back to his feet.

Newkirk rushed over, helping his friend up.

'Carter? Are you alright?' he asked, checking him for injuries.

'I think so,' Carter replied, sounding strangely distant and dazed. 'My arm hurts...' he trailed off, looking lost.

Carter's behaviour worried Newkirk more than he would have wanted to admit. He had never seen his friend so out of it before. Glad to have something to do, he checked the American's arm carefully. Carter's sleeve was torn, and blood was seeping from a deep cut underneath. Nothing seemed to be broken, but the wound looked bad enough. Plus, there was an ugly gash on Carter's forehead.

'You're bleeding, mate,' Newkirk whispered, trying to find out how badly Carter's injuries were affecting him.

'Am I? What happened, Newkirk?' Carter was looking around in confusion.

'Bloody bridge blew up too soon. Let's get you back to the camp,' Newkirk observed tersely and steered his friend back towards the POW camp.

He was certain that Carter had a concussion and was determined to get him back to the camp before he passed out. They did not have a medic in the camp at present, but Kinch knew a lot about first aid.

'The bridge blew up,' Carter observed, pointing roughly into the direction of the now-destroyed bridge. 'Who did that?'

Newkirk sighed. His head was spinning, as well, but he knew that he had to keep it together to get them back to camp. 'We did, Carter, and we have to get back to the camp before the Germans find us here,' he explained impatiently, gently steering Carter away from the bridge just as a car arrived.

'Come, quick!' Newkirk hissed and dragged Carter along, hoping that they had not been spotted yet.

They moved through the forest as quietly as possible. To Newkirk's relief, nobody seemed to have noticed them.

The American Sergeant suddenly seemed to wake up and looked at Newkirk, terror in his eyes.

'I set the timers to four hours. I swear I got it right. The Colonel and Kinch checked - wanted the bridge to blow up during roll call,' he muttered as they made their way to the tree stump which concealed the entrance to their tunnel.

Carter took a closer look at his friend. 'Hey, Newkirk, I think you're bleeding, too...'

He reached out to touch his friend, but Newkirk batted his hand away impatiently. 'I'm fine, Carter. Now let's get back to the camp...'

All of a sudden, he felt terribly dizzy, the trees around him tilting crazily. He stopped, shaking his head briefly to clear it only to be rewarded by a sharp, stinging pain which threatened to split his head.

'Newkirk? You OK?' Carter asked, having noticed his friend's distress.

'I told you I'm fine. I just thought I saw something. Must be getting paranoid...' Newkirk lied as the world stopped spinning around him. 'Come on, Carter,' he said, pulling his friend along more roughly than necessary.

After a last check, they rushed to it, opened the secret door and climbed down. Carter first, Newkirk following him closely.

Colonel Hogan and Kinch were already waiting for them impatiently.

'What happened?' Hogan asked as soon as Newkirk had climbed down.

Newkirk, suddenly absolutely exhausted, shrugged and went to sit on the bench nearby. 'The ruddy bridge blew up too early. Took us by surprise, Guv. Carter's hurt – think he's hit his head. Hurt his arm, too,' he explained, finding it very difficult to focus.

'Kinch – check out Carter's injuries. You're bleeding, too, Newkirk,' Hogan observed. He grabbed a piece of cloth and wiped the blood off his Corporal's face. 'Just a scratch. Are you hurt anywhere else? Were you knocked out?' Hogan peered into Newkirk's eyes, clearly alarmed by the Englishman's pallor and exhaustion.

'Colonel, I'm fine. I just want a cig and a coffee and some sleep,' Newkirk lied. Sure, he had been knocked out for a minute or two, but he was alright, wasn't he?

'Then why don't you go up and get some sleep? Roll call is less than 3 hours away,' Hogan offered, still sounding somewhat worried.

Newkirk nodded and got to his feet. He changed into his RAF uniform and climbed up to the barracks while Kinch and Hogan were looking after Carter's injuries.

He wasn't surprised to find Louis LeBeau still awake, fussing with the coffeepot and the stove.

The Frenchman had lit a candle and was pottering about quietly. Newkirk smiled. He knew that he wouldn't have been able to sleep, either. He waved at his friend, pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lit it and sat at the table, smoking. A cup of tea appeared in front of him, and when he looked up, he found the French Corporal smiling at him over his own cup of tea or coffee. They did not want to talk because most of the men were asleep, so they stuck to mime and body language to communicate. LeBeau picked up a covered dish and offered it to his English friend: it contained some kind of stew – LeBeau had saved some dinner for them. Newkirk declined the offer and lit a second cigarette. LeBeau rolled his eyes and shook his head.

He then gestured towards Carter's empty bunk, and when Newkirk mimed a headache and an arm in a sling, LeBeau's eyes widened in shock, and he rushed over to his friend.

'Are you injured, Pierre?' he whispered, suddenly worried.

Newkirk shook his head. 'I'm fine, mate. And Carter's fine, too. It's just a scratch.'

He finished his cigarette and pulled out a third one. Suddenly, the dizziness returned and he frowned, dropping the cigarette and grabbing hold of the table as the room span crazily.

'Pierre?' LeBeau's voice seemed to be coming from very far away all of a sudden.


	3. Chapter 3

He closed his eyes for a second and was relieved to find the dizziness stop as suddenly as it had started. LeBeau was staring at him in shock, and he realised that he needed to do something to convince his friend that he was alright.

'I'm fine, LeBeau. Right as rain. My ears are just ringing a bit from the explosion,' he explained with a winning smile. 'If you want to fuss over someone, it's Andrew you want. I just need a bit of peace and quiet.'

With that, he climbed onto his bunk, rolled over onto his side and pretended to go to sleep immediately.

LeBeau frowned at him, still worried about his friend. He had the feeling that there was something wrong with Newkirk, but he did not quite know what to believe. The Englishman had been uncharacteristically quiet recently, and quite distant. LeBeau knew that he was worried about his sister, and he, too, believed that this long silence might be a very bad sign. He had been keeping an eye on Newkirk, his best friend, because he seemed to be getting restless again, like he had been before the Colonel had arrived.

Newkirk had been a different person then: a reckless, careless troublemaker. It had taken him a while to see through the act, and he was worried that Newkirk's old reckless behaviour might be resurfacing. He shook his head and sighed. If Newkirk wasn't looking after himself, then he, LeBeau, would have to look after both of them.

He sat at the table, waiting for the others to appear.

Less than five minutes later, the secret door opened and Kinch, Carter and Colonel Hogan appeared. Carter looked pale and had a bandaged arm. He smiled at LeBeau, and it occurred to the Frenchman that he actually looked better than Newkirk had.

Carter sat at the table, yawning. LeBeau rushed over to offer him a cup of coffee and some food.

Unlike Newkirk, Carter nodded eagerly when offered food. They sat and discussed the mission quietly, and LeBeau couldn't help but notice that Colonel Hogan, just like himself, kept looking at Newkirk's bunk.

Suddenly, the door opened and Sergeant Schultz entered. He switched on the lights and hollered: 'Los, los, los! Alle aufstehen!!!'

Schultz froze when he discovered the group of men sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating stew. 'Colonel Hogan? What is going on here? Why aren't you in bed?'

'Well, Schultz, we thought we heard something...sounded like a bridge blowing up...' Hogan smiled at Schultz.

'Colonel Hogan, please tell me you have nothing to do with that...' The bandage on Carter's arm caught his eye and he whimpered: 'I see nothing...'

Schultz looked around, counting the prisoners who were blinking at him sleepily from their beds.

He then turned to the group, counted them and frowned when he realised that there was somebody missing. 'You should all be in bed. You've been up to some monkey business...Wo ist der Engländer, Colonel Hogan? Where is Newkirk?' Schultz's trembling voiced rose with every word.

'I'm 'ere, Schultzie, stop shouting! Now get out of here and let us sleep!' Newkirk sat up in bed and complained. He looked very tired, and the German Sergeant immediatly felt sorry for having shouted quite so loudly.

'Sorry, Newkirk,' Schultz whispered, and walked towards the door as quietly as possible. Suddenly, he remembered why he was there.

'There will be no roll call this morning. All prisoners are confined to their barracks. And that includes you, Colonel Hogan! The old big shot is in a bad mood...a VERY bad mood...' he rolled his eyes and left the building.

Newkirk sighed and jumped down from his bunk. 'Guess that's the end of me beauty sleep...' he grinned wryly and lit a cigarette. 'Bloody krauts, I swear I haven't had a decent night's sleep since they started this ruddy war.'

He sighed dramatically and helped himself to some of LeBeau's coffee.

'I think I'll write a letter of complaint to the red cross...' Carter chimed in. He looked tired but alert, and LeBeau was glad that his friends had managed to stay out of harm's way.

'How's the arm, Carter?' Hogan asked as the Sergeant flexed his hand carefully before pulling on his gloves and jacket.

'It's a bit sore, '

'Sore, is it? That's your own fault, Carter. You messed up the timers. We could have been killed!' Newkirk suddenly exploded.

Colonel Hogan exchanged glances with Kinch, who then grabbed Newkirk's arms and steered him into the Colonel's room.

'Calm down, Newkirk. Nobody got seriously hurt, we don't know whose fault it is,' Kinch explained calmly as he wrestled the Englishman into their commanding officer's room.

Colonel Hogan gestured towards his bunk bed and waited until Newkirk had sat down on the lower bunk. He was not looking forward to this conversation, but he had to deal with the topic sooner or later. Kinch knew that their commanding officer had been trying to find a good moment for this conversation for a few days now, and did not really want to leave the room.

'Do you want me to stay, Colonel?' he asked quietly, but Hogan shook his head. 'Thanks, Kinch, but that won't be necessary. Go and have your breakfast, we'll be with you soon,' he replied, clearly not at ease.

Kinch nodded and left. He closed the door and sighed before he sat at the table to have whatever breakfast LeBeau managed to produce.

When Kinch had closed the door behind himself, Hogan turned to face the Englishman. He had to do this no matter how painful it was. It was probably better to be direct and get to the point, especially with Newkirk.

'Newkirk, we need to talk. It's about your sister,' he started, suddenly not so sure how to continue.

'Mavis? What about her?' Newkirk asked, suddenly wide awake.

'I know she hasn't been answering your letters, so I asked London to make some inquiries.,' Hogan sighed again. 'They haven't been able to get in touch with her, either. She's listed as missing...or...' he trailed off.

'Missing or dead,' Newkirk repeated, his voice strangely flat and free from emotion.

'We can't know for sure, Newkirk. She could have gone to....to stay with friends? Maybe she just hasn't had the time to write...' Hogan was running out of things to say. Newkirks lack of reaction was not what he had expected.

The Englishman rose slowly. 'Is that all, sir?' he asked in that same, flat voice.

Hogan nodded, for once in his life lost for words.

Newkirk left the room slowly, like a sleepwalker. He sat at the table, lit a cigarette and stared at the cheap wooden surface of the table. LeBeau offered him a plate of porridge, but Newkirk did not react. A cup of tea appeared in front of him and he sipped the hot liquid between drags of his cigarette.

He felt empty and lost, the world around him a vague blur. Hogan's words were echoing in his mind: missing or...

Mavis, his little sister. Missing or dead. Probably dead. He did not want to believe it, but deep down, he had known the truth all along. She would have written if she was still alive. And now, she was gone. He did not want to eat or speak, and he did not want to go back home to look for her – there was no point in going back now that she was gone.

Newkirk was vaguely aware of the others around him, but he remained where he was: sitting at the table, chain smoking and drinking tea.

Carter looked at his friend full of concern. He sat down next to Newkirk and tried to talk to him, but his friend did not seem to notice. After a few minutes, LeBeau pulled Carter away from the table.

'Come on, Andrew. Leave him alone for now. Pierre just needs some time.'

The Frenchman put his hand onto Newkirk's shoulder for a moment before involving Carter in his preparations for their lunch.


	4. Chapter 4

Newkirk remained lost in thoughts for several hours. The others had lunch around him, trying to continue as if nothing had happened. They did not know how much of their conversation Newkirk took in or whether he was so wrapped up in his own world that he remained unaware of everything around him.

After lunch, Colonel Hogan had asked Carter to come to his office. He wanted to know what exactly had gone wrong the night before, but he also wanted to reassure the young Sergeant that he was in no way to blame for Newkirk's situation. He had not told the others about Newkirk's private troubles, knowing that the Englishman did not like to talk about such matters.

'Well, I don't know, Colonel. I think that the timers were the problem. We set them to four hours, I swear we did,' Carter explained tiredly. Hogan nodded. 'I know, Carter. I checked them myself. It wasn't your fault. Newkirk shouldn't have shouted at you like that, but I'm sure he did not mean it. Things aren't easy for him right now and I think he just needs some time...' Hogan explained.

'I know, sir. His sister hasn't written for months, I'm sure he must be worried. I know he only yelled at me because he's worried,' Carter explained, surprising Hogan, who couldn't have found a better explanation for Newkirk's outburst.

He dismissed Carter and sat on his bunk, wondering what to do. He could not send Newkirk home – not now. He was an important part of the mission, and he had been too much of a troublemaker in the past to be exchanged without Klink noticing. Besides, Hogan thought that it was better for the Corporal to remain in the Stalag instead of returning to London. Life in the city was rough, and if his sister was still alive, there was no guarantee that Newkirk would be able to find her. If she had left London, he would not know where to start looking for her, and if she was dead...well, then there was nothing Newkirk could do. Instead of going home, Newkirk could at least do something useful and probably help to finish the war sooner. He would just have to convince the Corporal that it was best if he stayed where he was.

Carter returned to the table and sat down opposite Newkirk, who was still staring at the table and smoking. Suddenly, he stubbed out the cigarette and looked at Carter.

'Fancy a game of cards, Carter?' he asked quietly, with a small smile.

'Sure, Newkirk, I'll get the cards...' Carter jumped up and promptly tripped over his own feet in his hurry to get the desired object.

'Carter? Everything OK?' Newkirk asked, concern obvious in his voice.

Carter picked himself up, grabbed Newkirk's cards and returned to the table. He smiled at his friend and nodded. 'Sure. I'm fine, don't worry about me. How are you?'

Newkirk shrugged. 'Let's play,' he said, grabbed the cards and started shuffling them.

He played against Carter, winning one game after the other, but his heart was not in it. He still felt dizzy and oddly queasy, but numb at the same time. Everything continued as usual, and his sister's death made no difference to anyone but him. Before talking to Hogan, he had thought that he had to go back to London to find Mavis, but even that did not seem to make sense now. So he sat and played cards.

Suddenly, Schultz burst into the room, out of breath, his face red. He sat at the table, took off the steel helmet and tried to catch his breath.

'L—los, los...' he wheezed, 'schnell raus! Roll call in five minutes! Schnell, schnell!'

With that, he got up again, put the heavy helmet back on and left the room as quickly as he had entered.

Carter shrugged and got up. 'Roll call at this time?' he wondered and knocked on Colonel Hogan's door to notify him. Newkirk got up, as well, and grabbed his overcoat. He moved slowly, because the room had begun to spin again.

Three minutes and fifteen seconds later, all the men were assembled outside, shivering in the cold. It was snowing heavily now, and Hogan wondered what they had done to deserve this. He had been unable to talk to Klink today, because the Kommandant had left the Stalag early in the morning and had not returned until recently. He had been in a bad mood all day, and it seemed that he wanted to spread some of that foul mood.

When the Kommandant still hadn't arrived after ten minutes, Hogan and his men began to get impatient. They hurled abuse at the guards, with one notable exception: Newkirk, usually one of the first people to complain, remained silent and continued to stare straight ahead.

Newkirk did not really notice the cold. He was dizzy, and the flurry of snowflakes only made it worse. His vision began to grey out at the edges, and sounds sounded really distant. Roll call seemed fairly absurd right now – he did not really know why he was here right now.

The headache was getting worse by the second, and the dancing snowflakes made him feel sick. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision but only managed to make things worse. All of a sudden, the world was at an angle. Newkirk did not realise he was falling until he hit the ground. The snow felt refreshing on his face, and then, he knew nothing.

Colonel Klink appeared in the doorway, wearing his coat, scarf and gloves, stared at the unruly prisoners and bellowed: 'Schultz! Repooort!'

Just in that second, Newkirk groaned quietly. Surprised, Colonel Hogan turned to look at the Englishman who had been quiet until now, only to realise that the man was swaying on his feet. Before Hogan could react, Newkirk collapsed and lay face-down in the snow.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Suddenly, everybody was silent. The prisoners stared at Newkirk, who remained face-down in the snow. Even Colonel Hogan hesitated for a few seconds before he knelt down next to the Corporal.

LeBeau rushed over to join them, and Carter and Kinch stepped closer, as well. Hogan shook Newkirk's shoulder gently. 'Newkirk?' When there was no reply, he carefully turned the Englishman over onto his back and tapped his face. 'Newkirk!'

Just that second, Colonel Klink hollered: 'What is going on? Schultz!'

Schultz rushed over to Newkirk, bent down and looked at him closely.

'Es ist der Engländer, Newkirk. He has fainted,' Schultz reported loudly before looking at Colonel Hogan. 'Was ist los, Colonel Hogan? What is wrong with Newkirk?' he asked quietly, genuinely worried about the prisoner.

'I don't know, Schultz, but I know that needs to get out of the cold. And he needs a medic,' Hogan explained quickly.

'Schultz! What is going on?' Klink was getting impatient and stomped towards them.

Schultz straightened up and saluted. 'Herr Kommandant, Corporal Newkirk is ill and needs a medic. The prisoners want to take him back to the barracks because it is so cold outside.'

Klink nodded and pressed a handkerchief against his nose and mouth before bending down to look at Newkirk. He was always afraid of catching diseases, and Newkirk's collapse seemed to suggest a possibly contagious condition to him.

'Colonel, your men can- ' Klink started, but stopped in mid-sentence when a familiar voice interrupted him.

'Klink! What is going on here?'

To everybody's – including Klink's - surprise, General Burkhalter had arrived.

'Herr General – one of the prisoners is ill,' Klink turned to face the General and saluted. Hogan stood up and faced the German General.

'Yes, General Burkhalter. We were just about to take him inside. Carter, Kinch, take Newkirk inside,' Hogan quickly added in order to speed things up. He did not want Burkhalter to ask too many questions, and Newkirk had to get out of the cold.

Carter and Kinch immediately moved to lift their friend off the ground, but Burkhalter stopped them: 'Halt!' he bellowed.

'Kinch, Carter, carry on, ' Hogan insisted.

'Call your men back, Hogan, or I'll have them shot,' Burkhalter hissed, and Hogan signalled to his men to step back.

'General, the Geneva Convention clearly states that...' Hogan argued, and Carter and Kinch stepped forward again. The General interrupted him again. 'We are not in Geneva, Colonel Hogan,' he grinned.

'Klink, who is running this camp – you or Colonel Hogan?' Burkhalter sneered.

Klink, torn between his fear of infectious diseases and his sense of duty, stared at the General for a second before lowering his handkerchief and straightening his posture.

'What a question, General. I am in charge here, of course!'

'Then send the prisoners back to their barracks! Except for this one...' Burkhalter pointed at Newkirk.

Klink reacted immediately. 'Schultz, send the prisoners back to their barracks,' he ordered. 'The Engländer stays where he is,' Burkhalter added.

Before Schultz could react, Hogan spoke up: 'Kommandant, Corporal Newkirk needs medical attention. Allow me to take him inside, out of the cold. I'm going to complain to the Red Cross...' he threatened, hoping that his words would have the desired effect.

'Klink, I think that Colonel Hogan needs some time to cool down. Why don't we let him stay out here with the Engländer until he has cooled his temper a bit?' Burkhalter chuckled.

Hogan shrugged. 'If Newkirk has to stay out here, so will I.'

'So be it.' Burkhalter grinned nastily. 'Come on, Klink, let's have breakfast,' he declared and led the way to Klink's quarters.

'Schultz, get the prisoners back to their barracks and guard Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk,' Klink ordered.

Schultz saluted and turned to face the prisoners:'Los! Zurück in die Barracken! Schnell!Schnell!'

The prisoners rushed back to their barracks, relieved to get out of the cold. Carter, LeBeau and Kinch hovered near the Colonel as long as they could, and Schultz did not have the heart to chase them away immediately.

'Colonel, what do we do now?' Carter asked, looking as helpless as Hogan felt.

'I don't know what Burkhalter is playing at, but there is nothing we can do right now. Find out what Burkhalter wants. I'll think of something.'

Schultz was getting impatient. 'Colonel Hogan, please, your men have to go inside now...'

'Yes, yes, Schultz, we're going...' LeBeau said and vanished into the building, followed by Kinch, only to return with some blankets which he handed to the Colonel.

'Bonne chance, Pierre,' LeBeau mumbled and patted Newkirk's shoulder. Carter did not want to leave his friend's side, but LeBeau grabbed his arm and led him into their barracks.

Schultz closed the door behind them and turned to face Colonel Hogan. 'Colonel, what is wrong with Newkirk? Is he really ill or is this some monkey business?' he asked.

'No monkey business, Schultz,' Hogan replied tersely.

Schultz nodded and took a closer look at Newkirk. 'He looks awful, Colonel Hogan. General Burkhalter is a cruel man. I would never do a thing like this, and neither would the Kommandant if I had a choice,' he states softly.

'I know, Schultz, I know,' Hogan replied absently and knelt down next to Newkirk. He shook the Corporal's shoulder again. 'Come on, Newkirk, wake up! That's an order!'

The English corporal groaned softly and frowned. 'That's it, Newkirk, wake up!' Hpgan repeated and was rewarded with another frown. Newkirk blinked slowly and opened his eyes for a few seconds. He groaned again and closed his eyes, lifting his hand to his head.

'Can you hear me?' Hogan asked, not sure whether the other man was actually conscious or not.

Newkirk groaned again and struggled to sit up. Hogan supported him gently, hoping that he was doing the right thing. He was not sure whether Newkirk had a head injury or whether he had collapsed due to exhaustion, but he thought that it was better to get off the frozen ground as quickly as possible in both cases.

'Wha'appened?' Newkirk slurred, sounding almost drunk.

'You collapsed during roll call. Do you remember?' Hogan asked quietly, trying to assess the Englishman's condition.

Newkirk shook his head and frowned as the movement made him dizzy again.

'I remember last night's...' Newkirk began but stopped when Hogan raised his hand as a warning.

'Burkhalter and Klink are coming...' he hissed and draped the blanket around Newkirk's shoulders.

General Burkhalter walked towards them, Klink in tow. He stopped right in front of Newkirk and looked down at him. 'So, Corporal, you are awake again, yes? Get up!'

Surprised, Newkirk struggled to get to his feet, but Hogan held him back. 'General, Corporal Newkirk needs medical attention. He needs to lie down in a proper bed, in a warm room,' he stated firmly.

'Dismissed, Hogan,' Burkhalter snarled and stared at the American Colonel.

'I do not want to leave Corporal Newkirk in his current state. It is my duty to...' Hogan tried to argue, but Burkhalter did not want to listen. 'Dis-missed, Hogan! Or all your men will have to live with the consequences, and I am sure you do not want that.'

Hogan sighed. 'Alright. I'll leave, but the Red Cross is going to hear about this.'

He helped Newkirk to his feet and squeezed his shoulder. 'You know your rights.'

'Been here long enough...' Newkirk mumbled and tried to maintain his balance. He was still dizzy, but seemed more aware than a few minutes earlier.

'Schultz – take the prisoner to Klink's office!' Burkhalter ordered. Schultz saluted and gently guided Newkirk towards the Kommandant's office.

Hogan watched him walk across the compound and shivered. He did not want to be in the Corporal's shoes right now.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hogan rushed into the barracks and found his men already assembled in his office, listening to conversation in Klink's office via the coffee-pot. When they saw their commanding officer, Carter and LeBeau rushed towards him. 'How is Newkirk?' Carter asked immediately, before Hogan had a chance to speak.

'I didn't get to talk to him much. Burkhalter had him taken to Klink's office. He should arrive there any second now. What did you find out?' Hogan replied truthfully.

'Burkhalter talked Klink into interrogating Newkirk. I think they were reading his file – they were discussing his private life, sir.' Kinch reported.

'Shh! Newkirk's in Klink's office!' Carter interrupted them.

The men listened closely to make sure they caught every part of the conversation.

'Ah, Corporal Newkirk. Sit down,' Burkhalter suddenly switched to English.

'Yes, Corporal. Take a seat!' Klink added.

'Are you feeling better? Is there anything you need?' the Kommandant continued in an unusually friendly tone of voice.

' I'd like to return to my barracks, Kommandant,' Newkirk replied quietly.

'Why so quickly, Corporal? Sit down, have a cup of tea. I want to talk to you,' Burkhalter insisted, sounding a lot more friendly than any of the men had ever heard him sound.

'After what Colonel Hogan did to you, it is the least we can do...' he continued sweetly.

'You see, your Colonel Hogan insisted that you stay outside with him. He did not want us to help you,'

Newkirk did not reply. The Englishman's silence was uncharacteristic, and the men exchanged worried glances.

'Where is Colonel Hogan?' Newkirk finally spoke, sounding exhausted, 'Shouldn't he be here when you question me?'

'Who said anything about questioning, Corporal? We just wanted to know how you are...if there is anything we can do to help you...or maybe we can help each other...' Burkhalter continued. 'You've been here for a long time. You must miss London...'

Newkirk did not reply, but Hogan could imagine the look on the Corporal's face at the mention of his beloved home.

'It's time to face the facts, Corporal. Our troops are about to conquer England. Soon, Hitler is going to march into London.. You can keep doing what you've been doing for the past years or you can improve your situation. If you help us, we're going to be quite generous,' Burkhalter continued.

'You can have whatever you want: food, drink, women...all we want is some information. If you tell us what is going on in the camp, we're going to pay. And after the war, we're going to make sure that you'll never have to worry about money again. Think about it, Corporal.'

'No,' Newkirk replied firmly, his voice full of emotion.

'That's a shame, Corporal. A real shame. Think about your family. Think about your sister,' the General continued innocently.

'M-mavis?' Newkirk stuttered, clearly surprised.

Equally surprised, Carter and LeBeau looked at their commanding officer.

Suddenly, things seemed to get quite hectic in Klink's office: glass shattered and Klink called out for Schultz.

Hogan had heard enough. 'I'm going to stop this right now,' he stated, grabbed his hat and left the barracks while his men tried to make sense of the sounds they could still hear via the coffee-pot.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Newkirk realised that someone was talking to him. He was cold, and briefly wondered where he was. They had blown up a bridge, hadn't they? But why was Colonel Hogan talking to him?

It didn't make sense, and his eyes didn't want to stay open, so he allowed them to close again. The cold did not matter now, nor did anything else.

The Colonel spoke to him again, more urgently this time, and Newkirk realised that it had to be important. He forced his eyes open again and tried to focus. Snow was falling – or was it rising up from the ground? He couldn't quite work it out until he realised that he was lying on the ground in the middle of the compound. Colonel Hogan was talking to him, and while he was unable to make out the words, it did sound rather urgent, so he forced himself to listen.

'Can you hear me?' the Colonel asked, and Newkirk realised that he should probably try to reply. He tried to speak but, to his surprise, could only produce a strange, groaning sound. He was dizzy but tried to sit up nevertheless – he did not understand why he was on the ground, and the cold was slowly creeping though his uniform. Warm hands grabbed his shoulders and helped him stay upright as the builings danced crazily in front of his eyes.

'What happened?' Newkirk asked, frowning as the words came out slurred and too quiet.

He had spoken loudly enough for Hogan to hear, because the Colonel replied immediately:

'You collapsed during roll call. Do you remember?' _._

Newkirk was confused._ We went to blow up a German bridge, middle of the night, went with Carter and the bridge exploded and..._Hogan's worried expression prompted him to speak. He shook his head and immediately regretted it – the dizziness got worse and his vision began to grey out at the edges. Forcing himself to stay awake, he replied:' I remember last night's...' but he stopped in mid-sentence when Hogan raised his hand abruptly.

'Burkhalter and Klink are coming...' he hissed in explanation. Suddenly, there was a blanket around his shoulders and Burkhalter and Klink were right in front of him, looking down at him. Now, he noticed that Schultz had been there all the time, as well.

Burkhalter spoke, but Newkirk was too lost in thoughts to listen. What on earth had happened to him? It didn't make sense. They had gone out to blow up a bridge, Carter got hurt, Mavis was dead, and he was going to the cooler for sure.

'...up!' Burkhalter's voice penetrated his thoughts and he struggled to get to his feet, but Hogan held him back. The Colonel argued with the German General, but finally gave up and helped Newkirk to stand up. The camp was no longer spinning, but the buildings seemed to sway in front of his eyes. There was a strange roaring sound in his ears which made it difficult for him to focus.

'You know your rights,' Hogan instructed him and allowed Schultz to guide him towards the Kommandantur. Newkirk was glad for the support, because he was not sure whether his legs would carry him. He was sure he was going to be interrogated, and hoped that he would be able to get through it by acting confused and maybe telling jokes. This usually resulted in him being thrown into the cooler, but he was willing to deal with the punishment: at least, he'd be able to lie down and rest.

He enjoyed the warmth in Klink's office, but hoped that he'd be able to leave soon.

'Ah, Corporal Newkirk. Sit down!' Burkhalter greeted him cheerily. 'Yes, Corporal. Take a seat. Are you feeling better? Is there anything you need?' Klink joined in, making Newkirk wonder whether all this was some sort of hallucination. Usually, he'd have played along, but he needed all his will-power and concentration to keep himself upright. He knew that the two German officers expected a reply, so he mumbled that he'd like to go back to his barracks.

'Why so quickly, Corporal? Sit down, have a cup of tea. I want to talk to you,' Burkhalter's face was suddenly very close to his own. A small china cup was handed to him before he could figure out what to do, and someone, persumably Klink, gently pushed him into a chair. Newkirk sipped the hot liquid, hoping that it would help him clear his head. _Chamomile tea...who on earth drinks chamomile..._

'After what Colonel Hogan did to you, it is the least we can do...' Burkhalter spoke again, shaking him out of his reverie. 'You see, Colonel Hogan insisted that you stay outside with him. He did not want us to help you,' the General continued, while Newkirk tried to make sense of what he was saying. _Colonel Hogan, yes, he needed the Colonel here... _'Where is Colonel Hogan? Shouldn't he be here when you question me?'

_I'm in this alone...concentrate, Newkirk, concentrate..._

'Who said anything about questioning, Corporal? We just wanted to know how you are...if there is anything we can do to help you...or maybe we can help each other...' Burkhalter grinned at him. 'You've been here for a long time. You must miss London...'

_London. Home. What did that Nazi swine know about London..._Newkirk frowned and drank more of that horrible tea. He wasn't going to take the General's bait, not now, not while the room was spinning like this.

' It's time to face the facts, Corporal...' Burkhalter launched into a speech about the glorious Third Reich, and Newkirk realised what was going on. They were trying to trick him, telling him that London was going to fall so that he'd betray his country, and he wasn't going to do that. Not now, not ever. 'No!' he replied with all the energy he could muster, speaking more loudly now, even though his head felt as if it was going to explode as he did.

'That's a shame, Corporal. A real shame. Think about your family. Think about your sister,' the General continued menacingly.

Newkirk froze. 'M-mavis?' he stuttered, and Burkhalter nodded, a smile on his face. Newkirk's hands started to shake. What did Burkhalter know about Mavis? Did that mean she wasn't dead after all? The strange roaring noise increased until it was almost unbearable, and the room was spinning again. He struggled to get to his feet, and the room suddenly tilted. The cup fell from his hand and shattered on the floor, spilling tea everywhere. He took a step towards Burkhalter, but found himself face to face with the shards of the china cup instead. From a distance, he could hear Klink shouting for Schultz. Then, he knew nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hogan rushed out into the compound, but soon found himself facing Corporal Langenscheidt's rifle.

'Halt! All prisoners are confined to their barracks until further notice!' Langenscheidt bellowed threateningly and tried to steer Hogan back to his barracks.

'Corporal, I need to see Kommandant Klink in an urgent matter,' Hogan explained, improvising wildly. Schultz would have been much easier to convince.

'Urgent matter? What matter?' Langenscheidt frowned, trying to make sense of the American prisoner's statement. It was at times like these that he wished his grasp of the English language was better.

'Yes, very urgent, Corporal. I am trying to prevent an epidemic! Corporal Newkirk came down with something this morning, and now several other men are beginning to show the same symptoms,' Hogan continued boldly.

'E-epidemic? Symptoms?' Langenscheidt was getting more confused by the second.

'Exactly. It could be very serious! I must see the Kommandant to inform him before I get it as well...or before the Kommandant or the General catch it...' Hogan finished.

He could almost see the German guard's brain trying to process the information. Finally, the Corporal nodded and called for his replacement to take over guarding the prisoners while he marched Hogan towards the Kommandantur.

As they approached the building, the door opened, and Sergeant Schultz emerged. He was supporting Newkirk, who looked semi-conscious at best. They moved slowly, and Schultz, supporting most of Newkirk's weight, was talking to the Englishman in a quiet voice. Hogan did not catch much of what he said, but Schultz's tone of voice was friendly and soothing. He was reassuring the British prisoner in German, and almost carried him towards the guest quarters.

Colonel Hogan tried to rush towards them, but Langenscheidt stopped him with a nudge of his rifle.

'You are going to see the Kommandant, yes? An urgent matter?' he prompted, but did not force Hogan to walk on. He understood that the American Colonel was worried about the British prisoner, but he could not permit him to follow Schultz.

Hogan nodded and continued towards the Kommandant's office.

Sergeant Schultz sighed as he marched up and down in front of the barracks, making sure all prisoners remained indoors.

He did not like his current situation, not at all. Something was wrong with Newkirk, that much was clear. Even Colonel Hogan had seemed shocked, genuinely shocked, which meant that it had to be pretty bad. Who knew what General Burkhalter wanted? And why did he have to pick on a prisoner when he was sick? That was not necessary. Newkirk needed a doctor, a nice warm bed and some rest, and instead, he was being questioned by the General.

He secretly wished that Colonel Hogan would emerge from Barracke 2 and talk to him, and then start off some of his usual monkey business to get Newkirk out of trouble.

Schultz would never admit it, but he liked the Engländer. Newkirk had always been a troublemaker, a scoundrel, but the German guard was sure that he was a good boy, just like the others. He certainly had a way of keeping them all entertained, that much was sure.

He stopped outside Hogan's barracks for a while, wondering whether he should just drop in and see what was going on inside. Suddenly, however, the Kommandant shouted for him, and Schultz rushed towards his Colonel's office.

When he arrived, out of breath an red-faced, he found Corporal Newkirk on the floor, with Burkhalter and Klink looking down at him from their positions behind Klink's desk.

They were discussing their next steps and stopped when they noticed the Sergeant's arrival.

Schultz saluted and waited for instructions, but tried to get a good look at the Englishman at the same time. He knew that the British Corporal was a good actor, but this was a bit too convincing, even for him.

'Schultz! Take this prisoner... Where is he taking the prisoner, General?' Klink ordered, but turned to the General for advice halfway though issuing the order.

'To the guest quarters, Klink. We're not quite done with him,' Burkhalter added.

'Take this prisoner to the guest quarters, Schultz! And hurry!' Klink repeated as if Schultz had not heard the General.

Schultz saluted: 'Jawohl, Herr General, jawohl, Herr Oberst!'

He knelt next to Newkirk and shook his shoulder: 'Newkirk, wake up...'

To his surprise, the Englishman groaned and struggled to sit up. 'Slowly, Newkirk, let me help you...' Schultz said and gently helped the prisoner to sit on the floor. The blanket that had been wrapped around his shoulders sild to the floor. Schultz tried to keep the prisoner upright while attempting to pick up the blanket, but it seemed to be an impossible task. He decided to leave the blanket and tried to work out how to get the dazed Englishman to his feet.

'Hurry up, Schultz!' Klink ordered impatiently, and Schultz reacted promptly. He pulled the prisoner's arm across his shoulders and got to his feet, pulling the other man up and dragging him along.

Newkirk groaned again and was clearly not well enough to walk, but Schultz led him out of the office as quickly as possible. Once the door had closed behind them, he stopped to take a good look at the prisoner. Newkirk's face was very pale, and his eyes were closed. Schultz noticed traces of dried blood in his hair and shook his head. As gently as possible, he half-carried the Englishman down the steps and into the compound. He started to talk to him softly in German, to calm both the injured man and himself. Slowly but surely, they approached the guest accommodation.

The English Corporal was thin, but that did not make Schultz's task much easier: soon, he had to stop to catch his breath.

When he looked up, he saw that Colonel Hogan was approaching with Corporal Langenscheidt, and he relayed the information to the unconscious Newkirk. However, Hogan did not come to talk to them, and Schultz dragged Newkirk to the guest quarters.

When they arrived there, Schultz sat the Corporal down on the bed, leaning his back against the wall.

'Wha's goin'on Schultzie?' Newkirk mumbled, making the German guard jump in surprise.

'Newkirk, you're awake!' Schultz beamed, relieved that the Englishman had recognised him.

'Hm...why'm I here?' Newkirk looked around in confusion.

'The General ordered me to bring you here. Now let's get you out of this coat...' Schultz used the opportunity to get the Englishman out of his snow-soaked overcoat and jacket.

'Should take me boots off...' Newkirk stated and fumbled with the laces.

Schultz stepped in to help him when the door opened and Colonel Hogan rushed in, followed by the camp medic and Colonel Klink.

LeBeau shook his head as they continued to listen to the events in Klink's office.

'Mon dieu, Pierre...' he mumbled, very concerned for his friend.

They listened for signs of life, but all they could hear was the conversation between Burkhalter and Klink.

'General, are you sure this is the right way?' Klink said in German. 'Corporal Newkirk has been nothing but a troublemaker since the day he arrived.'

'I know, Klink, I have read his file. But remember what I told you earlier: the Führer needs more troops, and when we conquer England, it will be useful to have some support among the natives...' Burkhalter explained patiently.

'But General, from what I know, this man belongs to the lower classes. He is dishonest, a thief. I don't see why-' Klink insisted, but Burkhalter interrupted him.

'That's precisely why I want to focus my attention on him. His dishonest nature is what we need, Klink: he can be bribed! I am sure he has been in prison at least once in his life – he seems the type. If we play our cards right, he is going to work for us, and he may be able to convince others to join us,' he explained eagerly.

'General, are you sure that this man is the right target? He could be fooling us. And why would the Führer be interested in a man like him? He isn't even an officer, he's just a Corporal...he has no discipline...Shouldn't we be trying to get Colonel Hogan onto our side instead?' Klink voiced his doubts again.

'Klink, Klink, don't you see? Newkirk is the type of man we have to start with – he's misbehaving because there is no incentive to change his ways...make the right kind of offer and he's your man. Did you see his reaction when I mentioned his sister? And there are many more like him...Think of the possibilities, Klink...' Burkhalter continued gleefully.

LeBeau had heard enough.

'Pauvre Pierre... How dare that filthy bosche talk about him like that?' he fumed, and Carter joined in: 'Yeah, it's not fair to talk about Newkirk like that!

'Shh, be quiet! Schultz just arrived, and he's taking Newkirk to the guest quarters,' Kinch interrupted them. 'There's nothing we can do just now. Colonel Hogan is on his way, and he's going to find a way to help Peter.'

'You're right, Kinch,' Carter agreed and settled down again. LeBeau, however, shook his head.

'Non. I cannot sit and listen to them talking about Pierre like that. I...I'm going to cook some nice food for him...' with that, he left Hogan's office and began to gather ingredients for a soup. While he really felt like walking straight into the Kommandant's office to tell the General exactly what he thought of his play, he knew that he would only end up in the Cooler for trying to leave the barracks against the Kommandant's orders. And if he was stuck in the Cooler, he wouldn't be able to help Newkirk. So instead, he grabbed some carrots and began to slice them angrily.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Colonel Robert Hogan always counted on his talent for coming up with unusual solutions for unusual situations, but this time, he had to admit that he even he was out of his depth. Newkirk`s sudden collapse had come as a complete shock. And now, he had to think on his feet and improvise wildly to get the chance to check on the Englishman.

Hogan was sure he'd be able to handle Klink - he knew the German Colonel well enough to be sure that he wouldn't be denied the request to check on Newkirk. Burkhalter's presence made everything more difficult: they still did not know what the General really wanted, and he was not as easily manipulated as the gullible Klink. Moreover, Hogan was not sure whether the General was as concerned about the well-being of Klink's prisoners. Klink certainly had his faults, but he had never denied a prisoner medical care.

At least, he had succeeded in gaining access to the Kommandant's office – or at least he hoped so. Corporal Langenscheidt had agreed to escort him to the Kommandantur, which was a good first step as far as Hogan was concerned. The words 'epidemic' and 'urgent' rarely failed to make an impression, he thought.

As they walked across the compound, he began to invent a whole range of symptoms Newkirk could possibly have displayed. _Dizziness, in any case…extreme fatigue…lack of appetite…damn, this would be easier if I knew what's wrong with him – or if he knew what I'm up to…_Hogan thought.

Just then, the door to the Kommandantur opened, revealing Schultz, who was helping a very dazed Newkirk down the stairs. Hogan noticed that the Englishman seemed dazed and looked extremely pale, and he slowed down to see where Schultz was taking him. To his relief, they did not seem to be heading for the Cooler, but instead of leading Newkirk towards his barracks, the German guard steered him towards the guest quarters. Newkirk appeared to be too out of it to notice much, but Schultz was talking to him quietly – in German, as Hogan noticed with a trace of amusement.

He tried to make his way towards Schultz and Newkirk, but Langenscheidt stopped him immediately. Hogan sighed and nodded – that would have been too easy.

Langenscheidt led him into the building and ordered him to wait there while he went to announce Hogan's presence to the Kommandant.

Klink's secretary was sitting at her desk, occupied with the usual stacks of paperwork. Hogan smiled at her, and she walked towards him

'Hello, Helga,' Hogan greeted her with a smile.

'Colonel Hogan. You promised me chocolate the last time you were here,' she teased with a smile, 'now you're here again, and still no chocolate…' she shook her head teasingly.

'Next time, I promise. Do you know why General Burkhalter is here today?' Hogan asked quietly.

'No, I don't. He arrived unannounced – he is discussing something with Colonel Klink. I only arrived five minutes ago, Colonel Hogan. Is one of your men in trouble?' she replied equally quietly, moving in closer.

Just then, the door opened and Corporal Langenscheidt returned. 'The Kommandant will see you now, Colonel Hogan,' he announced loudly.

Hogan shrugged and sighed dramatically:'I am sorry, Helga, but the Colonel's wish is my command.' With a wink and a smile, he entered Klink's office and found himself face to face with General Burkhalter.

'Ah, Colonel Hogan. I was wondering how long it would take until you showed up,' he stated, looking at Hogan as if he was a particularly nasty insect.

'The well-being of my men is my main concern, General. As the senior POW…' Hogan replied, holding the General's gaze stubbornly.

'Yes, yes, Hogan,' the General dismissed Hogan's protest impatiently before turning to face Klink. 'Klink, don't forget what we discussed. I'm going to town with Fräulein Helga – it's time for lunch. I will be back in the afternoon, and we'll continue our little conversation with the prisoner then. Heil Hitler!'

With that, Burkhalter left the office, and Hogan could hear him talking to Helga outside.

Klink sat down, looking tired and unhappy. 'What do you want, Hogan? Can't you see that I'm busy?' he whined.

'Colonel, are you alright? You look a bit pale…' Hogan said, making sure to look as concerned as possible, which was easy under the given circumstances.

'I am fine, Hogan, just a bit tired,' Klink sighed. 'What do you want to talk to me about?'

'I'm here to talk to you about Corporal Newkirk, Kommandant.'

Klink sighed again. 'Everybody wants to talk to me about Corporal Newkirk…'

'Well, I think you did the right thing,' Hogan said reassuringly.

'I did?' Klink looked up, clearly puzzled.

'Well, you know how quickly diseases spread in a camp like ours…isolating Newkirk from the rest of the POWs was probably the best thing you could have done, Kommandant.' Hogan continued his game.

'Diseases?' Klink was suddenly wide awake.

'It's probably nothing to worry about. Newkirk has been a bit under the weather recently, but I did not think it was anything serious. He was a just a bit pale and tired, didn't really have much of an appetite…I thought he was just a bit homesick…but then, he started to feel dizzy, and you saw what happened at roll call. A few of my men are already starting to show similar symptoms...' Hogan stopped and reached across Klink's desk, grabbing the German officer's arm. 'Kommandant! Are you feeling alright?' he asked, feigning worry.

'What do you mean, Hogan? Of course I am alright!' Klink looked at him in irritation.

'You swayed in your chair, Colonel. Are you feeling dizzy at all?' Hogan explained, hoping that Klink would fall for it.

'Nonsense, Hogan, I feel fine,' the German Colonel stated, sounding less than certain.

'I was just telling you that I would like to go and see how Newkirk's doing when you went white and swayed…' Hogan continued and looked at Klink closely.

Klink did not disappoint him: 'I must admit that I felt a bit…weak…just then.'

He stared at the American. 'Do you think I have caught Corporal Newkirk's disease? He was just over there a minute ago…and he collapsed right there…' Klink gestured towards Hogan's side of the desk, and now, the Colonel noticed a shattered teacup on the ground.

Hogan sighed again. 'It is difficult to tell, Kommandant. I'd feel better if our medic could take a look at Newkirk, just to make sure we're not about to face an epidemic…'

His eyes wide, Klink nodded. An epidemic was something he had always feared.

'Yes, Hogan, of course. But do you think it is safe to go and see Corporal Newkirk? Aren't you afraid of catching whatever he has?'

'Well, Colonel, as you know, we live in the same barracks, so if I'm going to get it, it's probably already too late now, ' Hogan explained. Klink recoiled slightly, and called for Langenscheidt.

The Corporal entered immediately an saluted.

'Langenscheidt, go and get the camp medic! Sofort!' Klink shouted, and Langenscheidt rushed off to get Sergeant Wilson, the camp medic.

Minutes later, he returned, Wilson in tow. Hogan wished he had had time to inform Wilson, but hoped that the young man knew enough about their operation to go along with whatever he said.

'Corporal Newkirk is in the guest quarters. Sergeant Schultz is guarding him. Tell him I sent you…oh…' Klink looked crestfallen. 'Never mind, I'll come with you. The General said that Corporal Newkirk is to have no contact with other POWs…unless one of us is present at the time.'

'I am sure you will be just fine, Kommandant. Just try not to breathe too much,' Hogan quipped.

'The sooner we know what's wrong with Newkirk, the better. Then we all can get the treatment we need.'

Klink nodded and allowed the American Colonel to lead the way. Hogan was impatient now and rushed towards the guest quarters, closely followed by Wilson. Klink took his time, hoping to avoid contamination by keeping the time he spent with the Engländer minimal.

Hogan rushed into the room without knocking and found Newkirk sitting on the bed, struggling to remove his boots with Schultz's help. The Englishman looked pale and tired, but to Hogan's great relief, he was conscious.

Newkirk looked up and smiled. 'Colonel. S'good to see you.'

'I'm here with Wilson, so that he can take a look at you. And the Kommandant decided to visit, too,' Hogan gestured towards Wilson and Klink.

'Hello, Corporal. Let me take a look at you…lie down, please…' Wilson went straight to work, while Hogan waved Schultz over to join him and Colonel Klink to give the medic and his patient some privacy.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

After what seemed like an eternity, Wilson walked over to join the others. Colonel Klink looked miserable and kept his handkerchief pressed against his nose and mouth tightly.

'So? What's wrong with the Engländer?' the Colonel asked anxiously.

Wilson looked at Hogan, who nodded at him.

'Corporal Newkirk has a concussion. He needs rest – ' Wilson explained, but Klink interrupted him: 'How did he get a concussion? Did that happen when he collapsed?'the German colonel asked eagerly.

Wilson looked at Hogan again, and then nodded.

'Yes. I did not see what happened, but I am sure he hit his head when he fell,' the medic continued.

Klink nodded, but he was not completely. 'Yes, but why did he collapse? What are you hiding from me? How bad is it? Is it contagious?'

Wilson shook his head. 'Colonel, I can assure you that Corporal Newkirk does not have any contagious diseases. He collapsed because he is exhausted.'

'_Exhausted?_' Klink dropped his handkerchief and stared at Wilson in disbelief. 'Are you sure?'

Wilson nodded, but did not continue. Hogan stepped in: 'Kommandant, the men have been working very hard recently – Newkirk here always volunteered. He's been clearing away snow pretty much non-stop for the past weeks. And as you know, we haven't been getting enough food recently. No wonder he's exhausted.'

Klink frowned and looked at the English prisoner who was resting on the bed.

'He looks ill. Are you sure there's nothing else wrong with him?'

'Well, there is the concussion,' Wilson piped up. 'I don't know how bad it is. He's quite confused at the moment and I think that rest is what he needs the most right now. Someone should stay with him at all times to make sure he isn't getting worse,' he explained.

Klink nodded. 'Does he need food?' he asked, looking at the prisoner more closely. 'He's quite thin,' he observed, a hint of guilt creeping into his voice.

'I doubt he'd want to eat right now, Kommandant. He's probably feeling too poorly because of the concussion. My men and I are going to watch over him – Carter, LeBeau, Kinch…and I'm going to stay right here and take the first shift.' Hogan said and swiftly moved towards the bed, eager to get an impression of Newkirk's condition.

'Colonel Hogan, General Burkhalter said that Corporal Newkirk must not have contact with other POWs unless one of us is present,' Klink piped up.

'Schultz is here, Kommandant. I am sure he's able to guard two prisoners…' Hogan continued swiftly and sat down on the corner of Newkirk's bed.

He looked at the Englishman, who had closed his eyes and appeared to be sleeping. Klink was right, Hogan noticed: Newkirk really did look ill. The Corporal's face was paler than usual and even his lips had lost most of their colour. Hogan still wasn't entirely sure what had happened to Newkirk, but it was obvious that he was not well at all.

'Colonel Hogan, you know that you cannot stay here. It's against General Burkhalter's orders,' Klink insisted, and Hogan sighed. Getting Klink into trouble with the General would not help any of them.

'All right, Colonel. I understand. But maybe we could make a deal…you give me five minutes alone with Newkirk…' Hogan tried to appeal to the German officer, but Klink shook his head.

'Colonel Hogan, you know I cannot give you permission to do that.'

Hogan sighed again. 'Kommandant, just put yourself into Newkirk's situation: you're in a foreign country, you're ill and….'

Klink sighed and shook his head. 'Colonel Hogan, you can have five minutes. But you won't be alone with Corporal Newkirk. Sergeant Schultz is going to be here with you, and he'll report everything you say back to me.'

'Thank you, Colonel.'

Klink left the room quickly, still not convinced that Newkirk's condition was not contagious after all. Corporal Langenscheidt escorted Wilson back to his barracks, and Hogan turned to face Newkirk.

He touched the Corporal's shoulder, surprised when Newkirks eyes opened immediately. The Englishman tried to sit up, but Hogan pushed him back gently.

'Lie down, Newkirk. You need to rest. How are you?'

Newkirk looked around and frowned. 'I'm…' he paused and looked around. 'Where am I?'

'You're in Klink's guest quarters.' Hogan explained, 'What's the last thing you remember?'

Newkirk frowned and finally shrugged tiredly. 'It's all a bit…fuzzy.'

His disorientation began to scare Hogan, who reminded himself that Newkirk's confusion was a result of his concussion, and that it would probably pass as he recovered.

'What do you remember?' he continued, trying to judge the severity of the Englishman's amnesia.

Newkirk shrugged again. 'You're Colonel Hogan. We're POWs in Stalag 13. And Schultzie here does not want to know what else I remember…but I don't know how I ended up here. Last thing I know, I was playing cards with Andrew and Louis was cooking that ruddy fish stew…' Newkirk explained and smiled weakly. 'Just thinking about it makes me feel queasy.'

Hogan smiled reassuringly, relieved that Newkirk's amnesia seemed to be limited to more recent events. 'Don't worry. I'll make sure he'll make you something nice. Just concentrate on getting better,' he said and patted Newkirk's shoulder.

'Why am I here?' Newkirk asked as he looked around the room once again.

'General Burkhalter and Colonel Klink talked to you earlier and decided that this is the best place for you. They want to continue the conversation when you're feeling better, ' Hogan explained.

'What did we talk about? I don't remember,' Newkirk admitted.

'To be honest, I am not entirely sure myself,' Hogan evaded the question because he did not want to worry or upset the injured Corporal. 'I am sure you'll find out soon enough. I have to go now, but I'll be back as soon as possible,' he continued, but Newkirk's eyes had already closed again. Hogan rose carefully and walked over to Schultz, who had been watching from a seat near the door.

The German guard shook his head. 'He's really ill, isn't he? Poor Newkirk, I've never seen him look quite as bad as this. Well, maybe when he first came here, but not since you arrived.'

He looked at the Englishman who seemed to be sleeping and continued in a softer voice: 'Colonel Hogan, you have to go back to your barracks now,' he whispered.

Hogan nodded and left the room. He did not want to annoy Klink by staying longer than permitted.

When he emerged from the building, Wilson was already waiting for him and his men were waiting nearby. Hogan was glad to see that the men were no longer confined to their barracks.

'Wilson! Just the man I wanted to see!' the he greeted the medic. 'I just talked to Newkirk. He's fairly confused, but I guess that's the concussion. What's your diagnosis?'

'You're right. He's confused because of the concussion – it's difficult to tell, but I am sure he hit his head before roll call. Was he on a mission last night?'

'Yes, he was. He said he was fine, but you know Newkirk…' Hogan trailed off, wondering whether he should have taken a closer look at the Englishman when he had returned from the mission.

Wilson nodded. 'I do indeed. He's one of my most difficult patients. And I wasn't lying to Klink – Newkirk may have collapsed because of his concussion, but he's in pretty bad shape overall. He has definitely lost weight and I remember thinking that he's been looking unwell recently. Has he been sleeping? Eating?'

Hogan frowned. 'I think so,' he replied slowly. He hadn't noticed anything unusual about Newkirk's behaviour . Wilson looked at him closely, as if he did not want to believe his own ears.

'I guess he has been worrying about his sister recently – she stopped replying to his letters. Apart from that, I did not notice any changes in his behaviour,' he continued, suddenly feeling incredibly guilty. He realised that he did not know much about the English Corporal. He had not noticed that Newkirk had been injured last night – who knew what else he had missed?


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry it took me so long to update – it's been a long and difficult summer, but I'm back on track now!**

Chapter 11

Newkirk opened his eyes slowly. He did not really know where he was: he definitely wasn't home, and the bed was too comfortable for a prison bunk. Maybe it was a hospital bed, but the room did not have the right smell.

As soon as he opened his eyes fully, he remembered where he was: in Kommandant Klink's guest room. Schultz was asleep in an armchair next to the door, but Colonel Hogan was nowhere to be seen, which was strange. He remembered talking to the Colonel just seconds ago.

Sitting up, he took a closer look at his surroundings. The furniture was probably very expensive, but he decided that he did not care for the design much. Still, it was the most elegant room he'd been in for a very long time, and it felt strange to know that he was still in the same old camp.

But why was he here and not in the barracks? The Colonel had explained it to him, but he simply couldn't remember. His head was pounding and dizziness forced him to lie down again. He wished he could leave this room and return to his barracks. This simply wasn't right. He did not belong here and simply couldn't shake off the feeling that something was really wrong here.

Maybe he could talk Schultz into letting him go back to his barracks. He could offer chocolate and cigarettes and LeBeau would probably bake some strudel…

'Hey Schultz? Wake up, Schultzie!'Newkirk tried to call, but did not manage much more than a hoarse whisper. The attempt made him even more dizzy, but he was determined to succeed. 'Sergeant Schultz! Two prisoners have escaped!' he tried again, a bit louder this time.

Schultz immediately jumped up and grabbed his rifle: 'Halt! Stehen bleiben!'

The German guard suddenly woke up fully and frowned, realising where he was and why he was there.

'Newkirk! That wasn't very nice!' he shouted angrily. His anger evaporated when he remembered what had happened. 'Newkirk…your're awake! I'm sorry I shouted at you…' he continued more softly and smiled at the Englishman.

'How do you feel?' he asked full of concern.

Newkirk shrugged. 'I'm not sure. Better, I guess. But I'd feel even better if I could go back to my barracks…'

'But why? This is much nicer than your barracks, Newkirk,' Schultz replied kindly.

'I'll give you three bars of chocolate and Louis is going to bake some strudel for you if you let me go now, Schultzie,' Newkirk pleaded, determined to convince the German guard.

But Schultz shook his head. 'You must be really ill! How can you prefer the barracks over this wonderful room?'

'What can I say, Schultzie – I miss me own bed…' Newkirk replied weakly, suddenly unable to focus on the conversation.

Schultz walked over to his bed and shook his head sadly. 'Newkirk, Newkirk…you have finally lost your mind…And I can't allow you to go back to your barracks for many reasons,' he counted on his fingers, which seemed to double and triple in front of Newkirk's eyes.

'Number one: you're not allowed to get up. Number two: you're not allowed to leave this room. Number three: I'm not allowed to leave this room. Number four: you're not allowed to see any other prisoners…Are you alright? Newkirk?' Schultz looked at the Englishman closely, concerned by the other man's pallor.

'I'm fine, Schultz,' Newkirk slurred, suddenly completely exhausted. 'Just need a bit of sleep…' he mumbled as he drifted off.

Schultz shook his head and sat down in a chair next to the bed.

Colonel Hogan found himself surrounded by his men who were all talking at the same time: 'How is Newkirk, Colonel?' 'When can we see him?' 'Is there anything we can do to help?'

He raised his hand to shut them up and motioned for them to follow him into their barracks, where he sat down at the table. LeBeau immediately handed him a cup of coffee as Carter and Kinch sat down with him.

LeBeau joined them at the table, and the three men waited for Hogan to speak.

The Colonel did not quite know where to start, so he took a sip of his coffee and a deep breath before he started to talk.

'Newkirk has a concussion. He's not feeling very well right now, and he's a bit confused, but he was awake and recognised me. He was asleep when I left, and Schultz is guarding him,' he reported.

'How do we get him out of there?' Carter asked, and LeBeau chimed in:'Oui. Pierre needs to be here with us. I'll cook him the best food…'

Hogan sighed. 'That's not going to be easy. Burkhalter has ordered that nobody is allowed to see Newkirk, and I don't know how we can get him out of there right now,' he admitted.

'At least he's comfortable,' Kinch added quietly.

Hogan nodded.

'But Colonel, I don't understand…how did Newkirk get that concussion? Did it happen in the explosion?' Carter asked, frowning and trying to remember what exactly had happened at the bridge. 'I think I passed out for a few minutes, but Newkirk was alright. Is Wilson sure he's not ill?'

Hogan sighed again and shrugged. 'Wilson said it's definitely a concussion, but he also said that Newkirk seemed…exhausted,' he stopped, not certain how to continue. He looked at his men, hoping to see frowns and surprised looks. Instead, LeBeau, Carter and even Kinch looked downcast and worried. Carter was the first to speak. 'Well, he was a bit quiet recently. We played cards as usual, but Newkirk was – I don't know, sir – he just wasn't paying attention recently,' he explained. 'I thought he was tired or catching a cold or something…'

Kinch spoke up next: 'He spent a lot of time down in the tunnels at night, when he wasn't on a mission. He told me he couldn't sleep – I thought he was having nightmares and worrying about his sister, so I just sat at the radio while he worked on the uniforms – just in case he needed someone to talk to. But he never did talk to me – at least not about anything personal.'

'Why didn't anybody tell me? I'm your commanding officer…' Hogan trailed off, surprised that he hadn't noticed any of this. '

'Newkirk does not like to talk about these things. He never really talks about his personal life,' LeBeau piped up. 'Mais oui, I should have talked to you. I know Pierre well enough to have noticed he was not at his best. He stopped complaining about my cooking…and he's been living on tea and cigarettes lately… I should have said something, but I thought I could get him to talk to me.' The Frenchman looked sad and sighed. 'But I failed…I'm a bad friend,' he added and stared into his coffee mug.

'It's not your fault, Louis,' Kinch said softly, looking as sad as the French corporal.

Carter just nodded, and they sat in silence for a while.

Hogan was the first to speak again. 'I don't know how I couldn't notice…'

'Sir, Newkirk is difficult – he often talks and talks and doesn't say anything. It's difficult to notice when something's wrong. It takes a lot get him to open up about his private life. I've known him for a while and we spend a lot of time in the tunnel, but I don't even know if his sister is older or younger…I think he's got me figured out by now, and I still don't know much about him.'

'Yeah…same here. I think he's my best friend…but I'm not so sure now…He never tells _me _anything,' Carter added, uncharacteristically quiet.

'André, don't worry. He likes you a lot – and that's why he does not want you to know. I think he's afraid that you'll think less of him if you knew…' LeBeau stated cryptically.

'If I knew what, Louis?' Carter asked, suddenly looking at the French corporal very closely.

LeBeau sighed, but realised that the others would not let the topic rest unless he replied.

'Well. Pierre and I – we've been here longer than you.' He looked at his friends, hoping that they'd let the topic rest, but their looks told him that he had no such luck.

'Pierre is going to kill me if he ever finds out that I told you,' he grumbled, but continued anyway.

'It happened just before Klink arrived. Pierre and I – we were in the Cooler together. They always put us into the same cell, always together because we did not like each other at first. What can I say – il est Anglais…he's English. After a while, we stopped fighting each other, and that day, we were in big trouble. We had escaped, Newkirk had stolen food and clothes for us, and they did not find us for three whole days. But then, we had no food, it didn't stop raining…and Pierre hurt his leg –'

'And that's when he told you about his past?' Carter interrupted, eager to hear the whole story.

'Non. Someone saw us and the guards came to take us back to the camp. And then, we were in the Cooler…and Schultz let slip that the Kommandant was going to be replaced, and that the new Kommandant was said to be really tough. We got a bit nervous, because Schultz told us that there were rumours that prisoners would be shot…'

'You really thought that Klink would have prisoners shot?' Carter grinned and helped himself to more coffee.

'Mais oui! We hadn't met him yet, and the old Kommandant was bad enough. We were cold and hungry, I think Pierre was having a fever, and we knew we were probably in a lot of trouble. The new Kommandant wanted to see us in the morning. There was nothing else we could do, so we talked.'


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

'What did he tell you?' Carter asked excitedly.

'Carter! If you keep interrupting LeBeau, he'll never tell us,' Hogan chided gently and waited for the French corporal to continue.

'Oui, as I said before, we were in the cooler…'

_Months earlier…_

'Blimey,' Newkirk shivered, 'and that's what they call spring here in Germany. Feels colder than the winter…'

LeBeau just nodded. He was too cold and tired to talk. They had been on the run for three days and he was tired and cold. His clothes were damp – it had been raining when they had been caught, and they had not been given the chance to change into dry clothes.

Newkirk pulled his boot off to inspect his injured ankle. When he hissed in pain and cursed, LeBeau turned to face the English corporal.

''ow bad is it?' he asked, more out of politeness than anything else.

'I don't think it's broken. Hurts, though,' Newkirk replied quietly. He shivered again, and LeBeau decided to move closer in an attempt to share body heat. The Englishman's clothes were as damp as his own, and Louis noticed that he seemed to be feverish.

They sat, leaning against each other, each lost in his own thoughts. Sleep seemed impossible in spite of their exhaustion.

After what seemed like an eternity, LeBeau spoke again, worried by Newkirk's silence.

'I wish I was in Paris now, spending the evening with my family and friends…' LeBeau sighed. 'I'd have a glass of wine, baguette…' he continued dreamily.

'The whole family meets at my mother's appartment and we eat, drink and sing…the whole family.'

Newkirk chuckled quietly. 'I can imagine that.'

'What about you? What would you be doing now if you were in London?' LeBeau asked, suddenly curious. He realised that he did not really know much about the Englishman.

'I'd be in the pub having a few pints,' Newkirk replied.

'What about your family? Wouldn't you want to spend time with them?' LeBeau turned to face his friend. Newkirk did not reply for quite a while, and LeBeau wasn't sure whether he'd get a reply at all.

'I don't really have a family like yours, Louis,' Newkirk replied quietly.

'But you have a sister – I know she writes to you,' LeBeau continued, not willing to let the issue go just yet.

'Yes, I have a sister. Her name's Mavis and she lives in Stepney with her husband,' Newkirk continued in the same quiet voice.

'Is she older or younger?'

'Four years older. She married early,' Newkirk replied and added: 'Had to get away from the old bastard…'

'Your father? And what about your mother?'

'Me mum was a dancer. She died when I was five. My father blamed me for her death…' Newkirk added in a strange, flat voice.

'Why? What happened?'

'There were complications during my birth…she never really recovered.' Newkirk stated in the same strange voice.

'But you were only a child…' LeBeau did not believe what he was hearing.

Newkirk shrugged.

'My father,' he spat the word, 'wasn't much of a parent. He spent every penny he had on cheap gin. My sister tried to be like a mother to me, but she was only a child. I did what I could to help…learned to pick pockets, that sort of thing. If it hadn't been for Mavis, I probably wouldn't have bothered with school. When I first got into more serious trouble, I went to live with my grandma in Wales for a little while. She died, I went back to London…'

LeBeau did not know what to say. He had not expected this, and almost wished he hadn't pressed the issue. 'And what happened then?' he asked in spite of himself.

'I was the reason my sister met her husband – she married a copper. He'd brought me home a couple of times, they started talking and the rest is history. I ran away from home when I was 14, after my…father…we had a bad fight, he said he never wanted to see me again and I told him a thing or two…' Newkirk tailed off. He shivered again and wrapped his arms around himself.

'And then, I joined the circus…' he smiled. It was getting darker by the minute, but Louis could still make out the changing experssions on his friend's face.

'Told you about that before, didn't I? I stayed with the circus for a while. Best thing that ever happened to me.'

'What did you do?' LeBeau asked, relieved to hear about happier times in his friend's life.

'At first, I only helped out. You know, carrying things, feeding the animals…' Newkirk sounded a bit more animated now.

'I was the magician's assistant for a while. Learned all his routines so I could take over when he wasn't well. I stayed with the circus nearly 6 years.' Newkirk smiled a little bit as he remembered the good times he had had. 'It was good while it lasted. In the end, didn't make enough money, the circus was too small…so I returned to London. I lived with my sister and her husband.' Newkirk finished with the hint of a sigh. He smiled wrily. 'You can probably guess what happened next…I tried to make a living by performing magic tricks, but I wasn't a big success at first. Couldn't really stay with me sister – never got along with her husband…so I went back to picking pockets.'

'And how did you end up in the Royal Air Force?' Louis now wanted the whole story.

'I was doing alright for a while. Even got some good gigs as a magician, but it wasn't enough. I met some people who were very interested in me talents,' Newkirk shifted on the floor and stopped talking.

'What do you mean?'

'We broke into rich people's houses, stole their money…got into real trouble that time,' Newkirk continued heatedly. 'Spent quite some time in and out of jail. I knew that the next time I got into trouble with the law…' he stopped and shrugged. 'My sister took me in, but made me promise to change me ways. Sent me to the recruitment centre the next morning. If it wasn't for my sister, who knows what might have happened to me.' Newkirk fell silent again and stared at the wall. LeBeau watched him closely. It was the first time he'd seen the Englishman this serious.

They had spent the rest of the night in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

LeBeau remebered that night very clearly. He knew that Newkirk did not like to talk about his life, and he understood why. But he did not really have a choice right now: he had to tell the others some details of what he knew, even if Newkirk would be mad at him.

'He told me that his mother died when he was very young, and you all know what he thinks of his father. His sister is the only family he has – she always supported him, even when he was in trouble with the law…' LeBeau stopped, hoping that he had not said too much. 'She means a lot to him.'

He continued lamely, looking at Colonel Hogan for support.

Hogan nodded. 'He hasn't heard from her for weeks now, and yesterday, I told him that she might be dead…'

LeBeau nodded, and the four men sat in silence for a while.

'What do you mean – trouble with the law?' Carter asked suddenly, surprising everybody.

'I'm not going to talk about that. If you want to know, you'll have to ask Pierre himself,' LeBeau stated and rose.

'Where are you going?' Colonel Hogan asked as the French Corporal stood up and walked towards the door. LeBeau stopped and turned to face him.

'I'm going to make some crêpes, and then, I'm going to visit Pierre,'he stated firmly and left the Colonel's office.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Sorry it took me so long. RL is crazy at the moment. I'll try to update more regularly. There's some German in this – translations can be found at the end of the chapter. **_

Chapter 13

Hogan followed the short Frenchman and watched as he sorted through his pots and pans and began to mix batter for the crêpes he intended to make.

'Thank you for telling us, LeBeau. You know more about Newkirk than I thought you did. I knew all the facts – about his time in prison and all that – because London gave me that information,' he smiled. 'They thought that he was not trustworthy enough to join our operation here.'

LeBeau returned the smile. 'When I first met him, I thought I'd have to kill him. But we got used to each other. He was complètement fou – totally crazy – when we met. He tried to escape all the time, spent more time in the Cooler than anywhere else. Pierre did not know when to stop. He was always in trouble, stole from guards and prisoners. I don't think he cared if he lived or died.'

Hogan sat down with a cup of coffee and listened to the French Corporal. 'He calmed down when he started receiving letters from home. Nobody wanted anything to do with him, but I decided to give him a chance and then…voilà…we became friends and tried to get home so that we could fight the Germans again. Pierre seemed happier when he had a mission. And then Klink came along…and you came along…' he shrugged and continued cooking.

'And what are you planning to do now, LeBeau?' Hogan asked as the French Corporal poured the batter into the pan.

'You wouldn't believe it, mon Colonel. When the crêpes are ready, I'm going to go take them to Pierre. Schultz is guarding him, and maybe he's going to let me spend a few minutes with Pierre if I give him some crêpes. C'est tout.'

Hogan thought about it for a while and smiled. 'You know, it's so simple it might even work. Do you want to go on your own? I'm sure Carter would love to come with you.'

LeBeau smiled. 'I'd prefer to go alone, mon Colonel, but I'll take Carter along. I'm sure Pierre would like to see him.'

'Good, LeBeau. See if you can get some information out of Schultz. And tell Newkirk to get well soon.'

'I will, mon Colonel.' LeBeau smiled and concentrated on the crêpes. Ten minutes later, the delicious looking pancakes were ready, and LeBeau covered the pan with a plate. 'Come on, Carter, let's go and visit Newkirk!' LeBeau called the American Sergeant, who was sitting on his bunk, shuffling Newkirk's deck of cards and daydreaming.

'Really?' Carter jumped up and put the cards into his pocket. He put on his gloves and jacket while LeBeau picked up his own jacket and hat.

'Good luck, LeBeau!' Hogan called as the two men left the barracks.

'How are we doing this, Louis?' Carter asked as they walked across the compound. 'Alors, I have crêpes, Schultz wants crêpes…and we trade them for time with Pierre.' LeBeau explained and Carter nodded enthusiastically.

Nobody stopped them as they walked through the snow. They moved quickly and confidently, hoping that Corporal Langenscheidt would not realise that they were doing something that was strictly 'verboten'.

The door to the VIP quarters was unlocked, and LeBeau raised his hand to stop Carter while he opened the door and looked in. He discovered Schultz, asleep in an armchair facing the door, his rifle on his lap, and what looked like a pile of blankets on the bed. He signalled Carter to follow him quietly and entered the room. Carter followed and promptly tripped over the carpet. Schultz snored and lifted the rifle sleepily. 'Wer ist da?' he asked, eyes still closed. 'Carter and LeBeau, Schultzie. Now go back to sleep.' LeBeau answered in a soothing voice, and Schultz smiled. 'Carter und LeBeau…' he mumbled as he fell asleep again.

LeBeau shrugged and made his way to the bed. Very carefully, he lifted a corner of the blanket and looked at Newkirk, who had curled up in bed. The Englishman was very pale and seemed to be asleep, and LeBeau almost felt sorry for disturbing him. But to his surprise, Newkirk frowned and opened his eyes. 'Wha…' Newkirk croaked and frowned again. He tried to sit up, but LeBeau held him down gently. 'Don't try to sit up. Wilson says you have a concussion and need to rest.'

Newkirk sank back down and smiled faintly as Carter rushed over and sat down next to him on the bed. 'Boy, it's good to see you. How are you?' Carter beamed at his friend, who looked at him in confusion.

'Where…why…?' Newkirk stammered, trying to focus. 'You're in Klink's VIP quarters. Don't worry,' LeBeau explained, also taking a seat on the corner of the bed. Newkirk looked terrible. Pale, with tousled hair and an unfocussed expression on his face. He was still wearing his uniform, which looked crumpled and damp.

'Are you hungry? LeBeau has brought you some pancakes,' Carter chimed in.

'They're not pancakes, they're crêpes…' LeBeau grumbled, 'Would you like some?' He offered the pan to Newkirk who suddenly seemed to go even paler. 'Sorry, Louis, I'm not hungry right now,' Newkirk replied weakly.

'Was ist denn hier los?' thundered Schultz, who had finally woken up. 'Carter! LeBeau! What are you doing here?'

He had jumped up and was aiming the rifle at the two prisoners.

'Hey, Schultzie, keep it down. We're just visiting Newkirk. LeBeau's made some…some food for him.' Carter explained. He, too, had jumped up and was standing in front of the bed with his hands in the air.

'You know that nobody is supposed to see the Engländer,' Schultz lowered the rifle and sat down again.

'But we're just here because we were worried about him,' LeBeau explained, 'And we were right to worry.'

Schultz shook his head. 'Excuses. He has a nice bed in a warm room – what else does he need?'

LeBeau counted on his fingers: 'First of all, he is still in his uniform. It's damp and uncomfortable. Second, he has no tea. Third, no food. And last but not least, he's all alone. All we wanted to do was to bring him some food and cheer him up.'

Schultz nodded, clearly convinced. 'Alright, alright. You can stay for a while…and the pancakes can stay, as well.' He eyed the pan hungrily.

'Yes, you can eat them if Newkirk does not want any,' LeBeau answered with a smile and handed over the pan. Schultz's eyes sparkled as he accepted the gift.

'I see nothing…' he smiled, turned the other way and started eating.

Carter and LeBeau turned back to Newkirk, who had managed to sit up in bed after all. He was still pale, but more aware of his surroundings. 'It's good to see you,' he said quietly. 'When can I get out of here? Nothing against a bit of luxury, but I'd rather sleep in me own bunk.'

LeBeau smiled back at him, relieved that his friend seemed to be feeling somewhat better. 'Hey, Newkirk, I brought you something!' Carter chimed in and reached into his pocket to pull out the deck of cards with a dramatic gesture. Unfortunately, the cards slipped from his grasp and spread all over the bed. Newkirk shook his head and laughed as his friend clumsily tried to pick up the cards.

Suddenly, Newkirk frowned and stopped laughing: the dizziness had returned. He groaned and lay down slowly.

'Hey, I'm sorry, Newkirk…' Carter stared at his friend, wondering whether he had done something to hurt him.

'S'alright, Carter.' Newkirk managed, and LeBeau shook his head. 'You didn't do anything, Carter. He shouldn't have sat up.'

The short Frenchman sighed and shook his head again. 'I don't like this. You shouldn't be here on your own. Le Colonel has to find a way to get you out of here…'

'General Burkhalter…' Schultz interrupted, his mouth full of food.

'I know that General Burkhalter has ordered this, Schultz, but…'

'General Burkhalter is coming back!' the German sergeant continued as he stared out of the window. 'Schnell! You have to leave!'

LeBeau and Carter jumped up and looked for an escape route, but the General was approaching quickly. There was the door to the bathroom and a big wardrobe. Carter wanted to make a dash for the bathroom door, but LeBeau held him back, realising that the General might see them through the window if they rushed across the room like that. He crouched down, pulling the American sergeant down with him, and together, they crawled to the wardrobe and climbed in. Instead of closing the door completely, they left it slightly ajar, so that they could see what was going on outside.

As the General entered, Schultz jumped up and saluted. To his surprise, the General was not alone: a tall, blonde woman followed him into the room. In the wardrobe, Carter and LeBeau craned their necks to get a better look at the strange woman. She was very thin and looked arrogant. Her long hair was pinned back in a very unflattering bun, and her face displayed an expression of disgust.

'Feldwebel Schultz – Frau Doktor Schäfer.' General Burkhalter introduced the woman.

'Frau Doktor Schäfer wird sich um den Engländer kümmern.'

With that, Burkhalter turned and left the room.

'Heil Hitler!' the doctor greeted Schultz, who replied immediately. 'Heil Hitler, Frau Doktor.'

The woman's voice suited her overall appearance, LeBeau thought. It was fairly high-pitched and somewhat unpleasant. She looked at Newkirk with a frown.

'Ist das der Patient?' she asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the Englishman. It was clear that she did not want to get closer than absolutely necessary.

'Jawohl, Frau Doktor. Corporal Newkirk.'

She took a step closer, lifted the blanket and shuddered. 'A filthy Englishman. He needs to be cleaned up before I can treat him,' she said in English to make sure Newkirk understood what she thought of him.'Disgusting.'

Dropping the blanket, she took three steps back and turned to face Schultz again.

'Sorgen sie dafür. Sie haben eine Stunde Zeit.'

With that, she turned and left the room.

'Charming bird,' Newkirk commented as the door closed behind the German doctor and Carter and LeBeau stepped out of the wardrobe.

'I guess I'd better go and have a shower…' Newkirk continued and tried to get out of bed.

'No!' both LeBeau and Schultz protested.

'You need to stay in bed,' LeBeau added, and Schultz nodded energetically. 'Genau. You're too ill to get up. AND you're not allowed to leave this room.'

Schultz started pacing. 'You're not allowed to leave this room, I'm not allowed to leave this room. And you – ' he pointed at LeBeau and Carter, 'are going to leave this room…and you've never BEEN in this room. What are we going to do? What ARE we going to do?'

'Le Colonel always knows what to do. You could go and get him and we stay here and look after Newkirk until you're back.' LeBeau suggested lightly.

Schultz stopped pacing and stared at LeBeau, seriously considering his offer. Then, he shook his head. 'No, no, no. I have to stay here. If the General comes back and I'm not here and you are here…no. You're leaving now, and I'm going to call Langenscheidt…' he pushed them towards the door. Carter and LeBeau stumbled along. 'We'll be back, Newkirk!' Carter shouted before they both rushed away from the building as quickly as possible without attracting attention.

'Langenscheidt!' they heard Schultz holler as they entered the barracks. Colonel Hogan and Kinch were already waiting for them.

'What did you find out?' Hogan asked almost immediately. 'How's Newkirk?' Kinch added.

The two men exchanged glances. Carter was the first to speak: 'Oh boy,' was all he managed.

'Colonel, it's as you said. He's not very well,' LeBeau added.

'What happened when Burkhalter returned? I did not have time to warn you,' Hogan inquired, glad to see that his men were not in trouble.

'We hid in the wardrobe.' LeBeau explained.

'Who's the woman?' Kinch asked.

'They went to Klink's office, but we couldn't listen because Corporal Schmidt was guarding us,' Hogan explained.

'She's a German doctor and – ' LeBeau started, but Carter interrupted him: 'She was really mean to Newkirk.'

'Oui. She called him a 'disgusting filthy Englishman', and won't examine him until he has been 'cleaned up'', LeBeau explained angrily.

Just in that moment, the door opened and Corporal Langenscheidt entered, red-faced and out of breath.  
'Colonel Hogan! Colonel Hogan! Mitkommen! Come with me! Schnell! Sergeant Schultz wants to see you,' he stammered.

'Well, I guess I'd better go and see Schultz,' Hogan stated and followed the German corporal.

**Translations:**

_Frau Doktor Schäfer wird sich um den Engländer kümmern _

Doctor Schäfer is going to look after theEnglishman.

_Ist das der Patient?_

Is this the patient?

_Sorgen sie dafür. Sie haben eine Stunde Zeit. _

Take care of it. You have one hour.


End file.
